Page 19 of Wants and Needs
Eventually the edge of his mouth lifts in a soft almost smile, and he moves in and sits next to me.
He stares straight ahead, not looking at me, and so I focus onthe music again. “Alone” by Alan Walker comes on and that’s just... well, spot the fuck on.
Right now I’m not alone.
With the sun descending to the ocean, and the tennis court down the hill suddenly lighting with the flickers of candles—even visible from a distance—I learn something new when my mouth twitches up on its own.
My bursts of anxiety—I refuse to call them attacks—can be managed better. There’s always room for improvement. More than thirty years I’ve been having them, and I still don’t know everything about them.
“Thank you,” I say on impulse, and probably louder than is appropriate, so I hurry to take off one earbud in order to regulate the volume of my voice, but I can’t bring myself to look at Carter again. Not yet.
“For what?” he demands. At least it sounds like a demand.
“For not making me talk when I couldn’t,” I mumble.
“Well, you looked like talking was the last thing you wanted.” His words are matter of fact. I can’t make out any big emotions behind them.
“It’s not that simple for a lot of people.”
“I get that, the impulse to help is strong, but I know the best intentions can sometimes make it worse.”
“How do you know that?” I ask, really wanting to know how he learned it.
“Life, I guess.” His voice is lower this time, and it’s more... emotional. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it. I can understand that.
“Don’t you want to be down there with CJ?” I ask. I feel a need to fill the sudden silence.
“Nah, I’ve spent loads of birthdays with him, and this time he has Wolf with him. Since they got back together they’ve been in the honeymoon phase and I’m letting him be.”
“I’ve read some studies that say that people lose one to two friends out of ten when they start a new romantic relationship.”
I can feel Carter’s gaze on me, and also the heat suddenly flooding my cheeks. Why the hell am I blushing?
He bursts out laughing before I can figure it out, and Ihaveto look at him this time.
“Why are you laughing?” Is he mocking me?
I really hope he isn’t. I’m comfortable talking to him.
“I honestly thought this situation was funny,” he says, as if it really is that simple, and then he shrugs both shoulders. I realize I was holding my breath when, after he turns back to look at the view, I exhale. “I hope it’s okay to say so, but I know you’re not like most people. Not only because most people wouldn’t say something like that after I just said I’ve been giving my friend space for his new relationship, or because you’ve probably had the opposite of a normal life, but because I pay attention. If you were anyone else, I would’ve thought you were implying my friendship with CJ will end soon.”
“How do you know I wasn’t?” I ask quietly.
“Because you said the words matter-of-factly, you were frowning like you were focused, and because you just ran away from a party and looked scared as all hell when I came up here. If you add all those things up, they tell me you’re not in any state to piss people off intentionally.”
God, I wish I had that superpower.Being able to tell so much about a person just by looking at them, noticing what they do, and yes, paying attention.
“You’re very observant.” I point out the obvious, and feel stupid instantly.
“It’s part of my job.”
“What do you do for work?” I don’t think he’s told us that.
“I manage art galleries.”
I’m dumbfounded for a long moment. Not knowing anything about the art world makes me feel like I’m about to sink in this conversation. But then I remember one of my favorite sayings—be curious—so I ask whatever comes to mind first.
“Are the customers snobby and rude?”
